


I Do

by falsteloj



Category: Young Dracula
Genre: F/M, M/M, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-23
Updated: 2011-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-27 23:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/301007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsteloj/pseuds/falsteloj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin tells Vlad he wants to get married. Vlad doesn't like the idea of it.</p><p>(I have a ton more YD stuff - you can find story summaries, etc, by clicking <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/512861/chapters/27201609">HERE</a>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Do

"Vlad," Robin started tentatively, big brown eyes fixed on his face, "there's something I need to ask you."  
  
If it could, Vlad was sure, his heart would be pounding with anticipation in his chest, his breath catching in his throat with excitement. The scene was playing out so close to his sappy daydreams - the ones that made it hurt to look at Robin and know he couldn't just reach out and touch him - he could barely stand it.  
  
Even back when they had both been at school together, before he had really understood what it had meant, he had used to sit in double physics and stare at Robin. Imagine those dark eyes gazing up at him as he asked the question, like something out of the films Mrs. Branagh used to watch in the afternoons when he went round for tea.  
  
Robin was fidgeting now, the fear that he was going to say no, going to turn him down, written clear in his every movement.  
  
"Will – " Robin sucked in a fortifying breath and Vlad flexed the fingers of his right hand agitatedly, determined not to make an idiot of himself once the request was finally out in the open. He managed a half smile for Robin and got a tight nod, a sign of decision, in return.  
  
"Vlad, will you be my best man?"

Silence stretched between them as Vlad tried to force sound past the ache in his throat. This was definitely not how things had played out in double physics. Robin, in an obvious attempt to cover his own awkwardness, started babbling.

"I know it might seem a bit quick but Darren, you know, her cousin? He's been found guilty and all the church and everything was already booked. Lorena said it would be stupid to let it go to waste. Don't you think so, Vlad? Vlad?"  
  
"Yeah," Vlad nodded, wincing at the strain in his voice. "Yeah."  
  
It had been bad enough when Robin had told him he was going to ask her to marry him. Had described in excited detail how he was going to do it, and how much the ring had cost, and how desperately he wanted her to say yes. The only thing Vlad ever wanted to do when Lorena was in the vicinity was latch on to her jugular.  
  
But, at least then he had been able to tell himself it might never happen. That even if she said yes, it didn't mean they'd actually go through with it.  
  
Robin pressed the issue, oblivious to the way it was churning him up, "Is that, yes it would be stupid to waste money, or yes, you're going to my best man? It's not for two months, you'll be on Council recess by then."  
  
"Two months?" Vlad repeated, proud that the burgeoning hysteria was kept to the outside edges.  
  
"Yeah, November 1st," Robin grinned. "The day of the dead. How cool is that?" More seriously, he went on, "You were my first choice. I wouldn't ask anyone else."  
  
The last hit home, Vlad forced a smile. He should be happy for Robin. He could pretend to be happy for Robin.  
  
"Of course I will. Someone's got to make sure everyone knows about all the embarrassing stuff you've done. Does she know you used to wear a cape to school?"  
  
"You wouldn't dare!" Robin scowled.  
  
"Wouldn't I?" Vlad took comfort in the way Robin glared harder, all the while knowing the truth.  
  
He totally wouldn't.

* * *

"Branagh's getting married," Ingrid stated the instant he entered the main hall.

"You're still eavesdropping," Vlad retorted, not really in the mood to talk about it. He got the feeling he never would be.  
  
Ingrid shrugged dismissively. "What are you going to do about it?" She smirked, "Apart from sob into your shroud like the pathetic waste of space you are?" Vlad swiped at his eyes as casually as he could, suddenly aware of how he must look. Not being able to see his own reflection lulled him into a false sense of security.  
  
"Best man!" The Count exclaimed from his throne. "I remember the last time I was asked to be best man. For your Uncle Ivan. I had an excellent time, toasting the bride, draining the bridesmaids."  
  
Vlad pulled a face. "I'm not going to bite Chloe."  
  
The Count looked surprised, "Suit yourself. I've always been a believer in tradition myself."  
  
"Are you going to write a speech?" Ingrid asked eagerly, obviously fighting back laughter. "My vote goes to that poem you wrote him, how did it go?"  
  
"You're not funny." Vlad told her coldly, thinking of the time he'd spent on it. Just because it had been terrible hadn't made it any easier to deal with the fact Robin had convinced himself the card had been from Ashleigh Braithwaite in the year above. Hadn't even considered that it might have been from _him_ .  
  
Ingrid ignored him, "You break my heart, when you act like you don't care –"  
  
"I actually have a race to govern," Vlad cut her off, snatching his Council robes from the top of Renfield's ironing pile and hauling them over his head. He could rock the rumpled look.  
  
"I just want you to know that, no matter what, I'm always going to be there."  
  
Vlad fumed all the way to Transylvania.

* * *

"Just dump it down over there," Robin gestured at the already teetering pile of boxes stacked in the corner of the room. "I'll sort it out later."

Vlad looked around the room, stopping himself just in time from sneering at the sight of the framed picture of Robin and the bride to be, all long dark hair and darker make-up contrasting against her milky pale skin. Exactly the kind of girl Robin had always wanted.  
  
"I can't believe this is really happening," Robin said then, following his gaze, "I didn't think we'd be able to afford it for years."  
  
"Nor me," Vlad agreed, knowing Robin wouldn't pick up on the bitter undertone. He never did.  
  
To his surprise Robin did seem to notice, picking the photograph up and biting at his lip, "Do you think I'm doing the right thing, Vlad? Chloe had a right go yesterday. Said we are too young."  
  
Vlad had known there was a reason why he and Chloe got on so well. Aloud he said, "What do you think?" He worded his next line carefully, "I mean, it's not like you're not 'awesome' enough to find someone else. You tell me so every time you see me."  
  
Robin grinned at that, "I love her. I wouldn't 'ave asked her if I didn't. I just…" He shook his head, leaving the sentence unfinished. "It doesn't matter, I'm just being stupid."  
  
"Now," Vlad said as brightly as he could manage, "you're talking sense."

* * *

"So, Vlad," Lorena smiled sweetly up at him as he nursed a glass of orange juice a few nights later, flicking her long dark curls over her shoulder. "I hear you've said yes."

Vlad shrugged and kept his gaze on the stage, concentrating on the way Robin's slender fingers moved over the fretboard of his guitar. He wondered bitterly if she would like Robin as much if she had heard the way he used to sound. Had had to sit through endless out of tune metal covers, assurances that, of course they were going to be the next big thing, "don't be so stupid, Vlad".  
  
Somehow he doubted it.  
  
Lorena sighed, leaning in so he wouldn't have the option of pretending he couldn't hear her over the sound of the band. "Look, Vlad, I know you don't like me and," she pulled a face, "I can't say you do a lot for me but," she glanced over at Robin, "you're his best friend. I'm willing to pretend for his sake. The least you can do is the same."  
  
"I've never said I don't like you."  
  
Vlad avoided meeting her eye, for once not wanting to act like the responsible adult. She had everything he wanted; he didn't know how he was supposed to act like he didn't care. Like he didn't want to rip her throat out every time Robin so much as looked in her direction.  
  
"It must be hard for you," she went on quietly, the look of pitying understanding on her face only making him hate her more, "but you have to accept it. He's never going to want you."  
  
He didn't even wait until the end of their set to leave.

* * *

"You left really early the other night," were Robin's opening words next time they met up, Vlad despairing at his inability to keep his distance. He'd take a walk through the midday sun if Robin asked him to, he was certain of it. "Were we that bad?"

Vlad plastered a false smile across his face, "You're starting to get it. It's only taken you what, seven years?"  
  
"Haha," Robin glared, nudging at his side to force him to move over and make more space, dropping down onto the sofa. "If it weren't for the fact my leaving the world of graphic design would break hearts, we'd be rich an' famous."  
  
"Just keep telling yourself that."  
  
Robin grabbed a handful of the popcorn he'd been eating, ignoring his protests, "You can be a right dick at times, Vlad, you know that?" Before Vlad could start apologising he went on, "'Ave you written your speech yet?"  
  
Things just went from bad to worse, that was his lot in (un)life.  
  
"Not yet." Vlad risked a glance at Robin's profile, the glow of the television screen making his skin look even paler than usual, emphasising the sweep of his cheekbones. His useless heart constricted. "Do you want to go out or anything? Last chance before," he hesitated, didn't even want to say it aloud, "you know."  
  
Robin frowned, thinking about the question. Finally he shook his head. "Not really. Lorena wouldn't like it if I got wasted anyway."  
  
Vlad resisted the urge to point out how little he cared, and encourage Robin to do it just to spite her.  
  
"I'd rather just do something with you," Robin told him, leaning all over him in an attempt to get comfortable, grinning at his discomfort. Vlad reasoned that Robin didn't know the real reason for it, and tried not to blame him for it. "You'll be deprived of my awesomeness soon." Robin squirmed until his head was resting against Vlad's side, "You should make the most of it while you can."  
  
Vlad watched the rest of the film with unseeing eyes, the finality hanging heavy in the air. Why couldn't Robin see what was right in front of him?

* * *

"Vladdo!" Ian clapped him across the shoulders. "'Aven't seen you for a while. Mam's been wanting to feed you up."

Paul grinned in greeting from the sofa as he was ushered into the sitting room. "Here's the man himself, I want to hear what you've got planned for Robin's last days of freedom!"  
  
"Paul," Mrs. Branagh scolded, "Don't talk about it like that." She smiled at Vlad kindly, "Robin's already said he doesn't want to do anything."  
  
"Yeah," Ian scoffed, "that's what everyone says. That's why the whole best man thing was invented." He and Paul shared a look that implied this was common knowledge.  
  
"Actually," Chloe spoke up, "the custom can be traced back to the second century AD."  
  
This time Paul gave Vlad a significant look, "Yeah, great." After a moment to let the sarcasm sink in, he went on, "So, come on then, Vlad. Don't spare the gory detail."  
  
"Aw, no," Ian shook his head, "I know that look. You 'aven't got anything arranged, 'ave you?" Vlad gave Chloe a desperate look, she just shrugged. "Don't worry, we 'ad a feeling this would 'appen." Ian tapped the side of his nose and beamed, "You just leave it to us."

"He's going to kill me!" Vlad said as soon as he managed to get Chloe on her own. "Or, you know, he would if I wasn't dead already." Chloe fixed him with a searching look, mouth pressing into a tight line of disapproval.

"You're really going to let him go through with this?"  
  
Vlad looked away, gaze wandering around the Branaghs' brightly decorated dining room. "What else am I supposed to do?" The words stuck in his throat, but he forced them out anyway, "He loves her."  
  
Chloe sighed. "He thinks he loves her. You should be showing him that he's wrong."  
  
"Have you been talking to Ingrid?" Vlad asked, not quite able to keep the suspicion from his voice. Chloe smirked,  
  
"I don't need to. Nobody knows Robin better than I do. Not even you." Vlad begged to differ but didn't interrupt. "Trust me when I say this will be the biggest mistake he ever makes."  
  
Vlad fidgeted with the table cloth beneath his fingers, trying to remind himself he was the Grand High Vampire, not an insecure teenager. It didn't work. "He already knows how I feel," he told her quietly. "He must do. Everyone else does." He cringed, "Your mum just told me she's always been on my side."  
  
Humiliating didn't even begin to cover it.  
  
"You're as blind as he is." Chloe placed a hand over his own. "Tell him."

* * *

"I didn't mean it the other night," Vlad apologised the next time he saw Robin, the chessboard laid out between them, "about the band. You're really good."

"Obviously," Robin scoffed, but Vlad could see the hint of pink in his pale cheeks his compliment had caused. Could smell the heated blood pulsing through his veins.  
  
Vlad studied him as Robin played his next move, capturing another of his rooks. He'd never gotten the hang of chess. He told Robin it was because it was boring, not a patch on Sluedo. The truth was that he could never concentrate with Robin around. Not on board games at any rate.  
  
"You should have more faith in yourself," he told Robin as he made his own misjudged move. When there was no quick comeback he found himself looking up into dark eyes, the silence oddly intense. Vlad swallowed thickly, hoping his feelings weren't written all across his face.  
  
Then again, it might be better all round if they were. Hadn't he promised himself to tell Robin tonight? To leave himself open to the rejection he'd been sure would follow such an admission ever since he'd realised he wanted to make one.  
  
He hesitated, fear paralysing, until Robin coughed and shifted awkwardly. "The bishop can only move diagonally, Vlad."  
  
Vlad stared down at the board and his bishop, biting at his lip. Lorena was right.

Robin just wasn't interested.

* * *

"Does my hair look alright?"

Ingrid pulled a face as she looked him up and down and Vlad wished, not for the first time, that he didn't have to rely on other people's opinions for this sort of thing. He missed his reflection.  
  
"I was under the impression you were making a last ditch attempt to seduce Branagh tonight."  
  
Her tone suggested he didn't have a hope.  
  
"No," Vlad lied.  
  
"Go out looking like that and you'll spend tomorrow polishing your speech." At Vlad's blank look she sighed, "You look like someone's uncle. Where did you get this?" She plucked at his sweater in disgust.  
  
"I don't know," Vlad snapped defensively, "I think it looks smart."  
  
"You would." Vlad folded his arms across his chest and Ingrid heaved a sigh. "I can't believe I'm about to do this. When are you supposed to meet Branagh?"  
  
Vlad glared at her accusingly, she was plotting something. And nothing good ever came of that. He still had the scorch marks to prove it. "An hour," he told her tersely, not quite wanting to acknowledge how fast the last few weeks had flown. The thought that Robin was going to stand there and say 'I do' in under a week, while he watched in church induced shakes, was enough to make him feel ill.  
  
"Don't expect miracles," Ingrid warned, dragging him by the wrist towards her crypt, "but, at least you can't be made to look any worse."

An hour later and Vlad was hesitating at the Branaghs' front door, feeling like an idiot in the outfit Ingrid had picked out for him. Her entreaty to get in touch with his vampiric side had done nothing but make him think of Robin's neck. Somehow he didn't think sinking his fangs in on the middle of the dance floor would do much for his cause.

Not unless he wanted to have to explain why Robin was experiencing a sudden propensity to smoulder in sunlight, at any rate.  
  
Paul answered the door, taking in his makeover with a knowing grin. "Somebody's looking to pull tonight!"  
  
Ian appeared in the hallway behind him, pushing a miserable looking Robin along in front of him. Robin's face lit up at the sight of him, and Vlad squirmed self consciously. The last thing he needed was Robin to laugh at him.  
  
"Is the new look for me?" He asked, eyeing up his shirt in obvious interest.  
  
"Don't be stupid!" Paul exclaimed, ushering Robin through the door. "Vladdo's got some taste, 'aven't you, mate?"  
  
"Who was that bloke you were seeing at Christmas?" Ian asked, frowning with the effort of trying to remember. "Posh bloke he was." Vlad felt still more uncomfortable, but dutifully supplied the answer,  
  
"Radu."  
  
He hoped nobody could tell the pathetic truth. That he'd begged one of his advisors to pretend, on the off chance it might make Robin jealous enough to realise he could be more than the fanged best buddy. In the event Robin had been too busy proposing to Lorena to pay him any attention.  
  
Ian nodded, "Yeah, that was it. See, Robin. Vlad here is still playing the field." Vlad felt unreasonably cheered that even Ian seemed to be against his forthcoming nuptials to someone who was, as he'd been assured many times, hot stuff.  
  
They clambered into the waiting taxi, Liam and Ryan from Robin's office and a whole group of the twins' friends staring at him with open curiosity.  
  
"Right then, boys," Paul rubbed his hands together in obvious glee. "If Robin can still stand by midnight we've failed!"

* * *

It was only half past ten and Robin already seemed to be having problems staying vertical. Vlad hovered, afraid Robin was going to do himself an injury. Ian and Paul had no such concerns, steering Robin towards the dance floor and imploring Vlad to let him 'make a fool of himself, it's his last chance'.

Robin was certainly doing a good job of it, he had to concede. Not that it was putting people off in the way he thought it should be, a pretty girl with short blonde hair giggling as Robin leaned in to holler something in her ear.  
  
Vlad watched, half hoping Robin would drape himself all over her. That Paul would whip out his camera phone and let Lorena know. That the whole stupid thing would grind to a halt. But, when it came to it, he just couldn't let it happen. Insinuated himself between them and told the girl Robin was off-limits, would be married come Monday.  
  
She backed off apologetically, and Ian handed Robin another bottle of something Vlad suspected would taste almost as bad going down as it would when it inevitably came back up.  
  
He felt like a third wheel, unable to drink lest he give into the urge to latch onto the first neck he came across. And, given the way he couldn't seem to drag himself away from Robin's side, there was one obvious contender. Finally he retreated to the sofas lining the back wall, where he could watch Robin without attracting quite so much attention.  
  
He had not been there long when Robin sought him out, almost landing in his lap as he collapsed down next to him.  
  
"I was looking for you," Robin whined, leaning heavily against his side, head pressed into his shoulder.  
  
"And now you've found me." Vlad tried to put some space between them, the heat soaking through the thin material of Robin's shirt filling his head with all manner of unsuitable thoughts. Robin was having none of it, shifting closer still.  
  
"I don't like it when you go away. I miss you." Robin pulled him into an awkward hug, one hand wrapping around his waist. "You're my best friend, Vlad. My very best friend."  
  
Vlad was glad he couldn't blush, especially as Robin decided it would be a good idea to rest his head against his chest, breath skittering along the exposed skin at his collarbone and sending shivers through him. It wasn't fair, Vlad thought desperately, to put temptation in his bloody lap.  
  
"You smell nice, Vlad." Robin told him solemnly, sniffing at his neck. "If I lived with you, do you think my stuff would smell of you?"  
  
Vlad was spared from trying to formulate an answer by the blonde girl from earlier; she had one steadying hand on her friend's arm, gesturing at Robin widely with the other,  
  
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry." Vlad frowned at her in confusion. "When you said he was getting married, I didn't realise it was to you. I feel such an idiot." Vlad opened his mouth, not sure where to start, but she kept talking. "Congratulations though." She nudged her friend, "Don't they make a cute couple?"  
  
She nodded and Vlad watched them go in bemusement, wondered if people came up to Lorena to say stuff like that. Robin shifted against his chest, yawning widely, "I want to go home."  
  
Vlad checked his watch, 11:55pm. Mission accomplished.

 "You sure, Vlad?" Ian asked when Vlad found him, gaze fixed on the way Robin was clinging to his side like a limpet, arms wound around his neck. "You don't 'ave to take him back."

"I don't mind," Vlad said as casually as he could. "That's what the best man's for."  
  
Paul clapped him across the back – harder than Vlad would have liked – oblivious to the way he was spilling his drink. "That's the spirit." Mindful of the earlier discussion about lampposts and handcuffs Vlad wrapped an arm around Robin in support and half dragged, half carried him out into the cold night air.  
  
Robin shivered against him and Vlad pulled him closer, knowing he really shouldn't. It didn't stop him from keeping an arm wrapped around Robin's shoulders all the way home – his home – deciding that there would be no point in waking Lorena up.  
  
Ingrid was out and his dad was nowhere to be seen when they got back, something Vlad was grateful for as he guided Robin up to his room. He didn't resist when Robin pulled at his arm, insistent until he was lying next to Robin, as careful to keep his limbs to himself as Robin was carelessly sprawling all over the place.  
  
"Are we going to share?" Robin asked, hand still wrapped around his arm, squirming so that his head was on the pillow, inches away from his own face. "We 'aven't done that for years."  
  
Vlad knew. Robin was peering over at him now, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed, and it was all Vlad could do not press him into the mattress and kiss him senseless. "It was simple then, wasn't it?" Robin still hadn't let go of his arm. "It didn't mean anything."  
  
He tried and failed to look away. "It wouldn't have to mean anything now."  
  
Robin met his gaze steadily, suddenly seeming far less out of it. Vlad felt like Robin could see right inside him, eyes boring through into the void where his soul ought to be,  
  
"You know that's not true."  
  
And then it was there between them. Acknowledgement that Robin knew. Vlad wanted to disappear. Wanted to never leave Robin's side. Robin tilted his head back, neck exposed in what they both knew was shameless invitation, the sound of Robin's rapid heartbeat pounding in Vlad's ears. Warm fingers tugged at his own and Vlad felt his restraint snap like something physical, moving to press his nose into the crook of Robin's neck, lingering for long moments until Robin took the initiative and hauled him into a kiss.  
  
It was nothing like he had imagined, wet and sloppy and he could taste the alcohol on Robin's tongue. It didn't seem to matter.  
  
Robin clutched at his back with one hand, the other wound tightly in his hair, arching up against Vlad's slighter frame. He could feel the effect he was having on Robin and it was making his head spin, to know that Robin wanted him as badly as he did him. Vlad shifted his weight onto one hand, grinding down harder against him. He used his free hand to push the material of Robin's shirt aside.  
  
At the first touch of his hand to skin, Robin gasped, from the touch or the cold Vlad couldn't say. The grip in his hair tightened still further and Robin pushed, as self focussed as Vlad had always known he would be, forcing his lips back to the column of his throat.  
  
They should stop, Vlad knew. He should stop. But he couldn't. Not with Robin panting desperately beneath him, not with the way he groaned his name when he gave in and latched onto the pale skin, crushing his weight down fully so he could concentrate on raising livid bruises without breaking skin. On marking Robin so that everyone would know to stay away.  
  
Fingers clenched in the back of his shirt and he bit down as hard as he dared, wary of drawing blood. Robin made an unintelligible noise, clawing at him with an edge of desperation that made Vlad pull away to check he hadn't miscalculated. What he saw when he met Robin's eyes was almost as bad.  
  
"Vlad," his voice was small, fear obvious, "we shouldn't be doing this." Robin pressed a hand to his throat, Vlad unable to keep his gaze from following, registering the purpling marks with a satisfaction he was sure Robin didn't feel. His skin was clammy to the touch and when Vlad reached out to trace his own fingers across the damaged skin, Robin flinched away from him.  
  
"What am I going to do?"

* * *

"Is it really noticeable?"

Vlad bit at his lip, not sure whether Robin wanted the truth. 10 hours sleep, a shower, and a change of clothes had done nothing to calm him down and Vlad didn't think he could keep his opinions to himself for much longer.  
  
"What am I going to do if she notices?"  
  
"Tell her the truth?" Vlad suggested quietly.  
  
Robin looked at him like he had lost his mind. "Vlad, 'ave you lost your mind!" He shook his head, "What would I say? It was late and Vlad was feeling a bit peckish. 'Ave I mentioned he's a vampire?"  
  
The sarcasm in Robin's tone was the final straw. "I said you should tell her the truth." Robin turned wide eyes on him in surprise at his churlish tone. "That," Vlad eyed the bruising up pointedly, "had nothing to do with my being a vampire. And you know it."  
  
There was no answer and Vlad came to a decision, the decision he should have made weeks ago.  
  
"I'm not going to stand there and watch you marry her, Robin. I can't."  
  
"You can't drop out now. The wedding's in three days!"  
  
Vlad let his gaze linger on Robin's throat, determined not to back down. "If there is a wedding."

* * *

"So much as think about knocking this door again and it'll be the last thing you ever do. Understand?"

The sound of the front door slamming reverberated throughout the castle and Vlad stared down at his handwritten speech glumly. Robin wasn't going to change his mind.  
  
"Halloween," Ingrid scowled, pulling a chair out violently and sitting down. "What's the point if we're not allowed to drain the little cretins?"  
  
The Count nodded. "Like juice cartons on legs. Are you sure they'd be missed, Vlad?"  
  
Vlad glared in answer. The Count waved one hand dismissively, "Are you still moping over your peasant friend? Show him who's in charge. Drain his blood!"  
  
"Yeah," Vlad muttered, "He'll see things much more clearly when he's dead."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Ingrid sneered, "Are you not even going to try? You're such a wimpire."  
  
"I am not a wimpire!"  
  
The Count 'hmm'ed in response, unfolding the newspaper in his hands to reveal the headline. 'GHV Wimpire Says Opposition.'  
  
Vlad stormed to his feet. "Fine. Whatever. I'm going to my room."  
  
He pretended not to hear Ingrid's muttered, "Good riddance."

* * *

"I never thought I'd say this," Ingrid told him the following morning, glancing up from painting her nails, "but I'm missing your idiotic smile. Why don't you just kill her and be done with it?"

"Why don't you just get out of my room?" Vlad retorted, not bothering to sit, "That way you won't have to look at it."  
  
"I'm just making sure you don't do anything stupid. Like open the shutters." She shrugged, "It'll never last, a few years time you can be there to pick up the pieces."  
  
"You're not doing a very good job."  
  
Ingrid held a hand up then, a sign that he should shut up. "What time are they saying 'I do'?"  
  
Vlad rolled over, turning away from her. "Eleven. Not that it matters." It hurt worse than cutting his first fang, his chest aching like it hadn't since his heart had come to a stuttering halt. Even joining the ranks of the undead hadn't been enough to catch Robin's eye. He swiped at his own, determined not to give Ingrid the satisfaction.  
  
He missed Ingrid's grin,  
  
"I just remembered I have better things to do."

"Go away!"

A few minutes later there was another knock at his bedroom door and Vlad groaned. He had only just got rid of Ingrid. It sounded for the third time and he sighed, accepting that he was going to have to get up and tell Renfield that he didn't want any dust spread.  
  
When he pulled the door back it wasn't to find Renfield loitering in the corridor. Or even one of his advisors from the Council, wanting to know what they should do about the never ending problem of unlicensed werewolf baiting in Lithuania. Instead Robin was stood there, the crisp whiteness of his shirt stark against his black suit jacket. Anxious eyes fixed on his face.  
  
"What are you doing here?" He'd meant the words to sound cold and flat, they came out concerned and hopeful. Robin squirmed under his gaze and his own eyes were drawn to the fading bruises visible over his starched shirt collar. There was no way she'd been able to miss them. "She called it off, did she?"  
  
"No." Robin shook his head, took a step closer. "I did."  
  
Vlad swallowed, barely daring to ask the next question. "Why?"  
  
"I can't do it, Vlad," Robin, ran a hand through his hair. Vlad could see he was shaking. "Not after the other night." Vlad took pity on him then, moving to let him in. Watching from the doorway as Robin sat, twisting the length of his unknotted tie between his fingers.  
  
"I thought you loved her."  
  
Robin winced, and Vlad felt bad for throwing his words back in his face. But not bad enough to take them back.  
  
"I thought I did too. But not enough."  
  
He couldn't stand it any longer, moving across the room in three strides to be at Robin's side. "So what exactly are you saying?"  
  
Robin met his gaze sheepishly, finally letting hold the death grip on his tie to press uncertain fingers to his hand. "That you're my best man?"  
  
"Is that a euphemism?" Vlad asked, but smiled all the same, letting Robin know that he wasn't angry. Far from it.  
  
"It can be, if you want it to."  
  
The words were tentative, unsure in spite of the manic grin Vlad was certain was plastered across his face. He shifted closer, one hand to the back of Robin's neck, fingers tracing through the hair at his nape. Robin's heart rate sped up, cheeks flushing at his touch, and Vlad smiled still wider.  
  
"I do."

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, feel free to chat / hit me with prompts over on Tumblr [@serenwib](http://serenwib.tumblr.com/) or Twitter [@falsteloj](https://twitter.com/falsteloj). :)


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